


Talking Body

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Uncut Derek, Virgin Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 21:20:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7730134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Derek explore each others bodies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Talking Body

**Author's Note:**

> There's no actual fucking in this fic unless you count hand jobs and blow jobs but there's no actual penetrative sex. Just a cute smutty fic where Stiles and Derek make each other feel good;)

Stiles and Derek fell back against the bed, crawling back further until they reached the pillows. Stiles lifted slightly to reach Derek’s lips until he leaned down more so that Stiles could rest against the pillows. He let his mouth explore Derek’s, opening more at the feeling. He felt Derek’s arms slowly snake their way up his body, one slipping underneath his shirt. It brushed up against his ribs, causing him to squirm at the ticklish feeling.

“Derek,” he moaned gently when his hand found it’s way further up his chest. His thumb passed over his nipple, teasing it lightly. He wasn’t much of a nipple person but the way Derek did it made him instantly hard.  

Derek closed his mouth around Stiles’s again, cutting off the sound of his desperate whimpers of pleasure. Stiles moved his hand to the hem of Derek’s shirt, tugging as in indication that he wanted it off of him. He pulled away briefly to take the shirt off, throwing it onto the floor. He was back, pressed against Stiles before he could complain. His lips traveled to his Stiles’s neck, sucking and kissing,  leaving Stiles shivering in pleasure. He tilted so he had more access, biting his lip to suppress a needy moan. Derek had never kissed him like this, so gently and slowly. They had just started dating and all they ever did was make out. While Stiles liked their feverish make out sessions, he was loving how Derek’s lips felt going slow and lingering on his skin.

“Shirt,” Derek breathed against his skin. He slid off so that Stiles could remove his shirt easier. The cool air nipped at his skin and he wanted to cover himself, mainly from the cold but also because Derek was staring at his body with passionate eyes.

“We don’t have to do anything,” Derek assured easily. He must have noticed the nervous gleam in Stiles’ eyes. “You don’t owe me anything.”  

Stiles shook his head. “I want to do this. I just want to feel you.”

Derek nodded feverishly. He suddenly felt nervous but aching with need.

“Just not all the way, yeah?” Stiles said, looking up at him to make sure he understood.

He nodded back jerkily. “Only touching, nothing else, I promise.” As much as Stiles craved to feel Derek inside of him Stiles wasn’t sure he was ready. He wanted Derek, really really liked him even but that was a big step for them. He was older and way more experienced than Stiles’ virgin ass. It was going to be way more romantic than now, sneaking into Stiles’ bedroom while his dad was away at work. Stiles was legal by all means but that didn't eliminate the fact that his dad wasn't a big fan of his boyfriend.

Derek leaned down again, pulling Stiles away from his thoughts and catching his lips. Kissing him always felt like a dream to Stiles, like he was floating somewhere in between consciousness and his dreamworld. He was hot and soft and pressing into him in the most intimate part of his body. He opened his mouth to gasp or moan. The sound ended up being a mix between both and came out before he could stifle himself.

_God, it felt good._

“D-Derek?” he whimpered gently. Derek seemed like he was subconsciously pressing against him, unknowingly grinding, too concentrated on kissing Stiles. Stiles wanted it in every possible way. It felt so good but he wanted more.

Derek pulled away with concern, having heard his voice calling out to him. “What’s wrong?”

Stiles shook his head. “Nothing, I, just,” he didn’t know how to put his feelings into words. Interrupting seemed like a bad idea now.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Just the opposite actually,” he said with a blush. “It felt really good. It’s just, uh, my jeans are getting kind of tight. . .”

He looked away right after the words left his mouth. The skin from his neck to his cheeks burned with heat.

“Oh,” Derek said softly, lips forming into a shy smile. “Uh, sorry?”

Stiles laughed awkwardly against the pillow. How in the hell had he landed someone like Derek? He was a skinny mess of pure awkwardness and Derek was, well he just _was._  Scott would have laughed at him now, cautiously bouncing around the fact that he had a boner like he was still a seventeen year old boy.

“Wanna take them off?” Derek asked after a few short moments.

Stiles nodded quickly feeling overeager but still wanting them off. Derek’s hands went toward the button then the zipper which sounded so loud in the quiet room. They were both tense as Stiles lifted his hips so that the pants could slip off. He was left almost exposed, the only barrier being his boxer briefs. He shivered against Derek’s hands pressed against his thighs.

“Better?”

Stiles made a noise of approval. He could feel himself straining against the thin fabric of his briefs. It clung to his lower half almost like a second skin. There was nowhere to hide from Derek like this. Derek had never seen him like this, almost nude and full of need.

“D-do you want to take yours off too?” Stiles asked unsure of himself. He wished he could come up with some sarcastic comment to diffuse the tension but his mind was consumed by Derek, only Derek.

Derek seemed to hesitate but nodded and began to shift so that he could wrestle his jeans off. Unlike Stiles, his boxers weren't a second skin and it mildly disappointed him but he could still see the tent Derek had created.

They were looking at each other like they were naked. They might as well have been, just the fabric of their boxers keeping them from full skin on skin contact. The boys sat there, on Stiles’s bed, like two awkward teenagers who didn't know what to do. Stiles wished Derek would just do something, press him into the mattress and touch him until he came. He didn't want to be overeager or too abrupt and beg for it but he needed something to happen or he was going to explode.

“Just touching,” Derek whispered to himself seconds before dipping down to kiss Stiles again. Just like that, he was lost in the sensation, of Derek’s hands exploring his body tentatively as if he was unsure of himself. He had yet to press his body down again like he had before and Stiles was yearning.

He figured Derek wasn’t going to touch him like he wanted to be touch without some encouragement. The dominate part of him wanted to take control of the situation, prove that he wasn’t an awkward virgin. Derek deserved a boyfriend who was willing to touch him without hesitation. With that thought in mind, Stiles nudged Derek, shifting positions with him so that he was now on top and Derek was up against the pillows. He looked up at him with uncertainty. In this position, Stiles felt vulnerable, open to him. He was pressing against him in this position, straddling his hips.

“Is this okay?” he asked, wanting to make sure Derek was okay with everything.

“Yeah, baby,” Derek murmured, running his hand over Stiles’ thighs. Stiles reached down, achingly slow, and brushed his hand against Derek’s cheek. He cupped his cheek, memorized by his face. He was so beautiful and Stiles was so amazed.

He dipped his head down unexpectantly toward Derek's chest and let his lips barely touch the surface, testing the area. Derek sucked in a breath, faintly but evident. Stiles tried again, this time closer to his nipple. He didn't know what Derek liked but Derek reacted just the way he wanted; a small shiver and a quiet gasp escaped him. Stiles smirked to himself and did it again, lingering longer this time.

Derek moaned.

Then, Stiles decided to be brave. He let his fingers dance down Derek's stomach towards the edge of the fabric hanging low on his hips. Lightly, he traced the stitching until he realized Derek had shoved his face into the pillow next to him. His chest heaved and Stiles could hear his heavy breathing up against the pillow.

When he stopped tracing the stitching, Derek lifted his head, staring at him through hooded eyelids.

“Is that okay?”

He nodded quickly still breathing heavily.

“Can I touch you some more?” Stiles wasn’t sure where his sexual confidence was coming from but he was going to use it to his advantage. Knowing them, they would have probably sat there, untouched for the rest of the night because of their nerves. He didn’t want that. He wanted to touch and be touched in all the best ways.

“I-uh, yes, yeah,” he breathed nervously then added a desperate “please.”

Unsure of what made him tick, Stiles palmed the fabric over, slowly putting some pressure on his groin. Derek whimpered, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. Stiles does the same motion again except mildly faster and twice in a row.

“Shit,” Derek swore under his breath. His fingers reached out for Stiles to touch him as well. “L-let me.”

Stiles shook his head. “I’d like to do this for you first, please?” He wanted to touch Derek, feeling him in his palm and hear him moan as he jerked him. He had gotten himself off to the idea way too many times since they met and now, he finally had the chance.

“Okay,” Derek muttered, “but afterwards, I get to touch you too.”

“Deal,” he responded with a sly smile. Oh God, they were doing this. He felt like a nervous little bitch, freaking out about something as simple as touching. They weren’t even going to fuck.

“Hey,” Derek said softly, noticing Stiles’ hesitation “Just me.”

Stiles gulped. He could do this. It was Derek, his sourwolf, the man who had threatened his life on several occasion and then kissed him in the rain. They were a confusing couple to say the least.

Stiles’ fingers absentmindedly slipped between the slit in Derek's boxer, grazing his warm skin. He just about yanked back until he made the most glorious noise Stiles had ever heard. So, he got brave again and inched his hand underneath the fabric, hand wrapping around it.

He slid his hand down his length and up again, watching Derek's lips parted open to suck in some air. He let his hand do what it wanted while he concentrated on Derek's reactions. With each tug, he began to crumble under Stiles. Stiles knew what to do to make him feel good; he had done it more than enough times to himself.

“Wait,” Derek gasped and Stiles stopped. He tried to tug his boxer down and Stiles’ cheeks heated at the idea of seeing Derek’s unclothed cock. In all of his daydreams, he imagined Derek huge and uncut and dripping with precum. He could get off on that image alone and it wasn’t even real.

“Help me,” Derek demanded softly. “Want them off.”

Stiles nodded numbly and slid off so that Derek could remove the material. He couldn’t tear his eyes away as the fabric slipped passed his hips and revealed his hard cock. It was everything he had imagined and more because it was real, in front of him, laying heavily against his stomach and dripping precum. Stiles gulped loudly and reached to touch him.

“It’s big,” he said dumbly, mentally smacking himself on the forehead for the weird comment.

Derek just smirked and let Stiles’ nimble fingers explore his uncut cock, pulling his foreskin back enough to reveal the head. Stiles was never going to fit that thing inside of him. Maybe, Derek would be the kind of guy who let Stiles fuck him, like a versatile couple. It was still a long way off but Stiles had to have some hope because _that_ was not going to fit like ever.

After his fascination died down, he wrapped his fist around Derek’s length, straddling his hips again and pumped. Derek’s eyes immediately closed and he tried to hold back a groan, canting his hips upward.

“S-Stiles,” Derek moaned, reaching up to drag him down to kiss him. His lips were locked against his before he could react.

It was hard to concentrate on moving his hand while Derek viciously attacked his mouth. He failed to keep up the speed either of them wanted and soon Derek was whimpering out of need. Stiles pulled away resting his forehead against Derek's collarbone so that he could speed up his hand and still be close to his face.

He was loving the sounds Derek was making, falling apart underneath his fingertips because of his hand. They made him feel less like a virgin, being able to pull these sounds from his boyfriend. His thumb brushed against the head, over the slit and Derek lets out a soft cry, arching his back slightly and moving his hips in a back and forth fashion, seeking more friction.

“P-please,” Derek whispered against Stiles’s hot skin. He can tell he’s growing closer to his finish and although his hand is severely cramping due to the amount of effort and awkward angle he is doing it in, he continues, wanting to see it through the end. He wanted to give Derek this.

“Close?” Stiles whispered back, finding himself out of breath as well. It seemed pathetic of him since he wasn’t even the one writhing on the bed but the movements he was doing were enough to test his muscles.

Derek frantically nodded.

Stiles sped up his movements, gripping a little harder and twisting his wrist so that he wasn’t just going straight up and down. He went as fast as his hand could manage, trying to get Derek to his release.

After a few more seconds, Derek’s entire body tensed and then he let out a blissful moan of pleasure, gasping loudly. He came on both of their stomachs, warm and wet. Stiles didn’t stop pumping his hand until Derek’s moans turned into quiet whimpers. They both collapsed back, breathing heavily.

“God, Stiles,” Derek whispered, pulling the boy closer. “You sure you’re a virgin?” He kissed him as they both panted into each other, trying to regain themselves. Stiles wasn’t sure how long they laid there, blissfully in each other’s arm but once Stiles shifted, he remembered how painfully hard he still was. Derek took notice too. He had promised Derek he’d let him touch him too.

Without saying a word, Derek’s hand slipped into Stiles’s boxers, pressing over the heated flesh. Stiles arched upward at the feeling, closing his eyes. He wanted it more than he ever thought was possible. He shivered at the feeling

“You don’t have to,” he breathed out as Derek touched him more.

“I want to,” Derek responded, kissing Stiles on the forehead. “I want to make you feel like you just made me feel.”

Stiles could only nod. He knew this was something Derek wanted to do or else he wouldn’t have agreed to any of the previous foreplay. He was just scared he was forcing him into reciprocating.

“I want to make you feel good,” Derek whispered against Stiles’s skin like he could sense the tension. “Please, let me make you feel good.”

“Okay,” Stiles moaned back as Derek’s hand began to move again. He stroked him, keeping a firm grip all the way up and down. Stiles shuddered and whined quietly when Derek’s hand left his cock. His eyes opened, searching for Derek’s face to see why he stopped but Derek wasn’t anymore near his face. Instead, he was pulling Stiles’ boxers down to his knees and suddenly engulfing his cock with his warm mouth.

Stiles shrieked in surprise, so fucking thankful that his dad wasn’t home. A mouth sucking him was such a foreign feeling, something he’d never experienced before. Hands were one thing but a mouth, oh God, a mouth was an entirely different level of good.

“Der-” he gasped. He wasn’t going to last like this. Everything was kicked into overdrive and he wasn’t going to last half as long as he wanted. He couldn’t, not like this. “Derek, I’m going to come.”

Derek made an affirmative noise around Stiles, not relenting on his vicious mouth attack. If anything, he picked up the pace, expertly fondling Stiles’ balls and hollowing out his cheeks to suck the boy harder. He was done for in a few seconds flat, completely overwhelmed and bucking in Derek’s grip.

“Feels so good,” Stiles muttered, too consumed by the pleasure to say much else. He was trying so hard to stave off his orgasm for just a few more seconds.

He felt himself jerk up into Derek’s hand uncontrollably.

“I’ve got you,” he thought he heard Derek say before dipping back down to suck on the head. He brain felt foggy and muddled with everything he was feeling. Derek was doing this to him. Derek was making him feel this way. “Come for me, Stiles. Come for me, baby.”

He found himself burying his face into the pillow beside him, muttering inaudible words and trying to keep him breathing from getting out of control.

He found his release just a few seconds later after Derek took him so deep that his swollen tip pressed into the back of Derek’s throat. There was no time to moan out a warning before he was coming down his throat.

“Derek, Derek!” the name left his lips multiple times as he came. It was too much, the wet heat sucking him dry. He jerked up a few more times before his body tired and collapsed back onto the bed. Eventually, Derek licked the last of Stiles’ come from his cock and slid up his body to Stiles’ face. His chest heaved while he rode through the aftermath of his orgasm, blinking up at Derek.

“Was it alright?” Derek asked nervously afterwards, licking his lips seductively.

Stiles picked his head up from his pillow. “I’m going to need you to do that every day for me, alright? Cause fuck, I don’t even know.”

Derek laughed and placed a sweet kiss to Stiles’ brow. “I’d be more than happy to, baby. I like watching you come apart like that.”

Stiles blushed hard thinking of how much more they could do to each other to elicit such moans. The thought was beginning to make him hard again and he knew they were far from done with each other.


End file.
